The key question to keep asking is, Are you spending your time on the right things? Because time is all you have.
— Randy Pausch
Friday, May 18, 2012 (DAYS 75 - 77)
7:40am, and I’m standing outside on the narrow street as the early morning sun shines through the scattered clouds overhead and I’m about to begin the short walk to my Spanish lesson when I look down the street to my right and notice Lindsay and Michelle walking towards me on their way to class as well. Walking together with our trio of backpacks strapped over our shoulders, we cannot help but feel as though we are all ten years old again walking to school as a band of neighborhood friends. I am even carrying my breakfast that consists of two bananas and a small amount of granola in my left hand as we wind through the series of narrow streets that are shared with both tuk tuks and horses alike. The only missing element to complete the childhood ensemble is my plastic transformers lunchbox and a crumpled up piece of paper that has the selective answers of YES, NO, OR MAYBE scribbled next to the appropriately marked corresponding empty box, where, just above the words nervously written out, WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME? Thankfully those days are behind me, and I’ve matured from writing adolescent and quite childish notes, now I just mass text girls, then, sit back and sift through all of the NO’s and OR MAYBE’s. Today however, I’ve hit the jackpot as Lindsay has circled both the YES and OR MAYBE, which mean, you’re telling me there’s a chance! The regeneration of my youth continues to surprise me daily in the efforts of the situations I find myself in, and, this causes me to smile in the reflection of my thoughts, even in the present moment. Nearing the entrance to Zoolas from the street I bid farewell to my schoolmates and continue to the end of the street before walking uphill towards my now familiar outdoor classroom. My inability to stay focused is a constant battle, and, as Karen notices this she tells me it’s because it’s fin de semana and allows us to break early for the day, and, once again I hear the familiar heart-pounding tune, schooooool’s out!
7:40am, and I’m standing outside on the narrow street as the early morning sun shines through the scattered clouds overhead and I’m about to begin the short walk to my Spanish lesson when I look down the street to my right and notice Lindsay and Michelle walking towards me on their way to class as well. Walking together with our trio of backpacks strapped over our shoulders, we cannot help but feel as though we are all ten years old again walking to school as a band of neighborhood friends. I am even carrying my breakfast that consists of two bananas and a small amount of granola in my left hand as we wind through the series of narrow streets that are shared with both tuk tuks and horses alike. The only missing element to complete the childhood ensemble is my plastic transformers lunchbox and a crumpled up piece of paper that has the selective answers of YES, NO, OR MAYBE scribbled next to the appropriately marked corresponding empty box, where, just above the words nervously written out, WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME? Thankfully those days are behind me, and I’ve matured from writing adolescent and quite childish notes, now I just mass text girls, then, sit back and sift through all of the NO’s and OR MAYBE’s. Today however, I’ve hit the jackpot as Lindsay has circled both the YES and OR MAYBE, which mean, you’re telling me there’s a chance! The regeneration of my youth continues to surprise me daily in the efforts of the situations I find myself in, and, this causes me to smile in the reflection of my thoughts, even in the present moment. Nearing the entrance to Zoolas from the street I bid farewell to my schoolmates and continue to the end of the street before walking uphill towards my now familiar outdoor classroom. My inability to stay focused is a constant battle, and, as Karen notices this she tells me it’s because it’s fin de semana and allows us to break early for the day, and, once again I hear the familiar heart-pounding tune, schooooool’s out!
The weekend has finally arrived, and with it, the highly anticipated all-you-can-eat brunch that we have been anxiously awaiting since our discovery of such a feast just seven days prior at El Barrio. Walking with a purpose from my apartment, it feels as though we are on a never-ending quest for Belgian waffles covered in a mountain of whipped cream. Yes, you heard me correctly, a mountain, or, in español, montaña! Finally reaching the Promised Land flowing with syrup and endless cups of coffee, there are cheers and even a short-lived fist pump. As the three of us sit in silence stuffing our faces, we are slowly being seduced by the adult contemporary music that is playing throughout the outdoor speakers and cannot help but wonder, who is the mysterious DJ with a broken heart? Savoring our moment of being fat kids, we stare out at one another from behind dark sunglasses, clearly hiding our shame for the moment. You know that feeling when you’ve clearly had too much to eat? Doesn’t it just feel so grand? Twenty minutes later, and we are still in our current positions with a great start to the weekend.
After our delectably delicious feast, it’s time for our Three’s Company to become a reality. So feel free to come and knock on our door…we've been waiting for you…where the kisses are hers and hers and his, three's company too. Completing the move-out from the girl’s adoptive Guatemalan family and in to Casa de Troy, our Full House is absent of make-out parties from the sleazy works of Bobby, or his true identity, child actor extraordinaire, Kevin R Connors, but somehow we manage. The afternoon is interrupted with what has become the typical rainstorm of the past few days, and it’s clear that the rainy season has returned to Lago de Atitlan.
Early Sunday morning, and I’m already losing my new roommates. Lindsay and Michelle have opted out of the seasonal change and are ready to make their way to the Pacific Coast in El Salvador for surf and sun. Contemplating joining them, I’ve decided to stay in San Pedro since I still have two more weeks of Spanish lessons that are paid for, but I promise to reunite with them in a few weeks. After hateful and sarcastic comments are exchanged that can be nothing less than extreme verbal abuse, we hug it out, and I return to my solo bachelor pad where I am afforded the complete privacy to curl up in the fetal position and cry myself in to a mid morning siesta. Waking to an overcast sky and a light rain, I am wondering how long it will take for cabin fever to set in with this gloomy weather, and begin to question the decision to stay in the highlands of Guatemala. As evening arrives, I venture out to the nearby tienda for a few items for dinner, and upon returning, placing the key into the lock I feel a snap. Closing my eyes tightly, I look down and am already certain of the image that will appear when I open them. The key is no longer a single object, but is now in pieces. One of these pieces is permanently wedged in the lock and after attempting to use the broken key to pry the door open, I am unsuccessful. I search out the owners and without help I am told that it will be tomorrow morning before I will be able to get my belongings. After debating and arguing in broken English and Spanish, I am told that for a tip they could probably get the door open for me. Reluctant to pay, I agree since everything I own is on the other side of the locked door. Thirty-five minutes later I am back inside the room where I am packing up my belongings to be moved to the upstairs apartment that has a view of the lake and the volcano. By the end of the room switch, I am completely exhausted with just enough energy to eat before passing out.
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